A Thief's Superstition
by kitkat0000
Summary: A thief discovered in the night by the five monarchs finds herself tangled in a web of deceit, murder, and black magic. Her brother dead, her comrades on the run, and a darkness seeping into the corners of the world leaves Xan with no choice but to follow orders; but where will that lead her? (Adventure/Romance.) (Gore/Mature Scenes.) (OC)


Chapter 1

"So we're sure about this." The question was presented as more of a defiant statement as the brown eyed girl with deeply tanned skin eyed the looming white castle in the distance. Around her, townsfolk teemed in the heart of Cair Paravels neighboring city. The man she stood with, a tall, imposing figure a few years her senior chuckled as he also surveyed Cair Paravel, shielding his eyes from the sun with a large calloused hand.

"No, but it pays good." He grunted before reaching into his trouser pockets to retrieve an apple. The girl sent him a reproachful look as he took a particularly loud bite out of it, seemingly unconcerned with what lay ahead of them.

"I don't trust them." She declared finally.

"Neither do I. We didn't trust them a fortnight ago, we don't trust them now, but we still get the jobs done and we still get the gold."

The girl ruminated on this statement as they turned to walk through the city streets, past vendors and children and the odd knight standing guard. Telmarines were the majority of the people here; in fact, they were the only "people" the girl could see. She bit back a look of shock and disdain as a centaur in knights' armor walked past them, obviously on a watch shift. She would never get used to native Narnians; they were of a different time, and she was well accustomed to the many new citizens of the world.

 _I feel a long way from Tashbaan._ But even as the bittersweet thought crossed her mind, she felt relief at escaping what surely lay in wait should she ever return to her home.

"Xan, they have given no reason for us to not trust them." The man interjected into her thoughts as they continued to weave through the streets, idly exploring the unfamiliar city.

"This is different. We have never done something of this magnitude, and their dismissal of our questions makes me angry." Xan put her hands in the pants of her trousers. By all means, she looked like any ordinary Telmarine man; but she was in fact a woman of Tashbaan with dark hair pushed tightly up inside of a common hat. Blending in was important in this situation; should anything happen, it would be better if the citizens of the city had never seen the girl travelling with four men and a middle-aged woman.

"Why shouldn't we be allowed to know who directs our tasks? Who pays our gold? If we are working with them, we should know what we're getting into." She continued, and the man rolled his eyes.

"We do know what we're getting into; Cair Paravel." She shot him a disdainful look.

"Queen Lucy's cordial is no idle target, Rafael. I would like to know who asks for it and why. We can't trust them, should anything happen."

"Well then, what would you suggest." Rafael was used to her pessimism and it ceased to phase him anymore; Xanthipi would not back out on a job, that he could count on. Her musings just served to put her at ease. "We leave? They will find us and kill us. We confront them? We've tried that." She raised her chin indignantly, not saying a word as they rounded the corner, nearing the inn they boarded at. The bonds that tightly held her chest flat were becoming damp with sweat and she ached to lie down after their long journey to the city.

"Look, all I'm saying is that if something goes wrong, I have your back. No one else's. I have the sneaking suspicion they feel the same." Rafael clasped a strong hand on his cousin's shoulder, stopping her. "And I you. But nothing will go wrong. I promise." She smiled and nodded, not believing him a bit.

Rafael would always have her back, this she knew, but an unsettled feeling in her stomach made her nervous about the job. Rafael and Xan had been thieves since as long as the 19-year-old girl could remember. Once, they had worked in a team of four, including her elder brother Jamie and Samuel, the man who went on to betray them, and the cause of her brother's death. Following this, Rafael and Xan had set off on their own, doing mediocre jobs when they could find them until about a fortnight ago. They had been approached by a similar band of thieves shortly following a job in Archenland. Mercutio, Thomas, and Rebecca proposed a joint venture for a period of a few short months; they had many jobs they had been contracted to fulfill, and could use the help and expertise of the man and his small girl-wonder.

Aside from the obvious flaws in their character, Xan had never liked their strategic lack of information on who exactly had contracted them. But they had taken the jobs and worked well in their team of five, and Rafael was right; the pay was unrivaled. However, as the jobs got increasingly difficult, Xan became increasingly suspicious of the three.

They entered the inn; a man and his younger brother, or so it seemed, clad in cheap travelers clothes and weaponless. They immediately found Mercutio, Thomas, and Rebecca in a corner booth of the downstairs pub waiting for them.

"Where have you been?" The middle aged, blonde woman demanded before the bar maid could even bring them a drink.

"Just out telling everyone about our plans." Xan sneered, her disdain for the woman not even thinly veiled. Rebecca was nasty and domineering, quick to turn to her sword and the least cooperative of the three. The other two were not far off though, in Xan's opinion.

"Tomorrow is important. This cannot go wrong." Mercutio chose to interject before a spat could break out, and the two women subsided to underhanded glares.

"We've worked through everything, it won't." Rafael answered.

"Very well, we bought the clothes this evening and have planned the route in. It won't be easy; we must be quick to our swords this time."

 _This time?_ Xan inwardly rolled her eyes at Mercutio's statement.

"We'll meet at high noon." And with that, the three stood and left Rafael and Xan to themselves.

Xan licked her lips nervously as she peered through a crack in the wooden closet door. She was alone, still dressed as a boy, and very on edge in a less occupied hallway somewhere in Cair Paravel. Had everything gone to plan, she was the last to arrive; hidden on the bottom of a noblepersons carriage. Her arms ached from hanging, unseen, as the carriage took its time to reach Cair Paravel and then finally the stable house.

With the coast clear, Xan took the opportunity to strip down in silence. She pulled a silken gown over her head, and it felt cool against her flushed skin. It was simple by all means, a dark blue with flowing sleeves and white embroidering. For this ball, it was much too simple; but it was better she go unnoticed, and she felt confident in her agility in the fabric. She struggled to fasten her dagger sheaths around her right and left thighs, finding her hands shaky.

 _Calm down._ She scolded herself, leaning against the wall and taking a deep breath. She couldn't help it; this job held new risks. The monarchs of Narnia (the Pevensie siblings and the Telmarine King Caspian) had been in power for just shy of a year but were known for the loyalty they commanded. Should anything go wrong, Xan was unsure of what would happen. And from what she'd seen, Cair Paravel was not short of guards.

With her dress and daggers secured, Xan fastened a lighter knife to the inside of her left forearm for good measure and removed her hat, allowing her dark curls to tumble down the back of her dress. She smoothed them out, and wondered for a moment if she even looked presentable. Shaking the thought off, she peered once more through the crack in the door and quickly stepped out, leaving her old clothing behind.

Finding her way to the ballroom proved to be difficult, as the castle was much larger than predicted. She knew the route from the ballroom to Queen Lucy's chambers where the cordial would be kept, but aside from that she was on her own. Breathing a sign of relief, she slipped into the ballroom to find the festivities well underway. Knowing she was only supposed to be there for a moment, she quickly scanned the room. Her eyes soon fell on three of the five monarchs, seated at a table raised above the crowded dance floor. The two queens, Lucy and Susan, and a dark haired boy with fair skin; certainly not a Telmarine, so it could not be King Caspian, and she knew that Peter was said to have fair hair. So that left him to be Edmund. Handsome. She noted, warily looking around the room for the remaining two kings.

She found her cousin, staring at her with an untouched cup of wine from where he sat near a group of noblemen at a table. He nodded subtly to her to her, before turning toward the noblemen. _He blends in well._ She knew it was time to make her move. The ball had been in full swing for about an hour, and many people here would be intoxicated and the monarchs would be occupied. Wait any longer, and guests would begin leaving, putting the guards on tight watch over the halls near the chambers of the monarchs. Without so much as a second glance to her cousin, she slipped back into the hallway.

Close to the ball, Narnians and people stood guard alike, lining each hallway. She knew the main hall would lead her to the courtyard, and she slipped between meandering attendees and casually made her way into the courtyard. From the courtyard, she quickly found the flower gardens to the right. She knew these would have fewer guards, and the window to Queen Lucy's chambers would be three stories up. She passed a Telmarine standing guard at the front entrance of the gardens but he paid her little attention; no doubt many people had made their way in and out of the gardens tonight, and her tiny stature posed no threat in his opinion.

Skirting several pairs on her way to her destination, she was already breathing heavy and struggling to remain casual. She found her pace quickening and her pulse racing, but unlike other hardened thieves, she was always like this; her nerves never subsided, no many how many jobs she completed, how many times she was forced to turn to her dagger in defense, and no matter how many times her cousin could be counted on to get her out of trouble.

"Four to the right, three up…" She double checked before looking around one last time. Surprisingly, no one could be seen down either row of roses. Maybe tonight would be her night after all. Xan was not strong or a fighter by any means, but she was quick, agile, and small; and these were her greatest assets.

Hiking her skirt up and removing both daggers from her person, she jumped slightly and drove the dagger into the stone wall with all her might. She smiled as the trusty, rare steel chipped into the rock and she found purchase, hanging lightly. Slowly, she made her way up arm by arm. Sweating and cursing quietly, Xan found handhold on the second story balcony and hoisted herself up, reaching down to retrieve her daggers. She took in her surroundings, glancing around the garden. She pressed herself against the glass in a panic as she watched a guard approach where she stood exposed.

He would see her. Xan knew it. She was only fifteen feet up, and with little effort he could cast a glance up. Even in the dim light of the torches in the surrounding garden, her silhouette was obvious. She was screwed. Her legs began to shake with her impending doom nearing as she attempted to mold herself into the glass. He was a mere ten feet away and had yet to look up, but she knew it was only a matter of seconds. Would she be enslaved? Would she be killed? What would happen to her mission? Her cousin?

Panic flared in her heart as she listened to his footsteps, closing her eyes and waiting for her the worst. Closer and closer the footsteps loomed until they were directly under her. Here, the guard gave pause.

 _This is it._

Her eyes shot open when the guard to a step to the right, then another, and another, his pace seemingly un-phased. In disbelief, she watched him, oblivious to her presence, continue to march through the garden. When he disappeared around the corner, she wanted to laugh. She wanted to shout, to cry, to jump with joy; instead, she gave herself seconds to calm down before she turned back towards the wall to continue to her ascent.

She froze.

Face very nearly pressed to the window, she stared eye to eye with a very angry High King Peter.


End file.
